Perimo
by Toothpick
Summary: As much as he wanted to say it was, it really wasn't her fault. It was his. He hated to admit it. He didn't want to admit it. Oneshot. Character death, HBP spoiler, DMHG.


**Summary:** Draco reflects his past and regrets his decision on the side he chose for the War. The final battle proves to be too much to for him handle. Character death, HBP spoiler, DMHG.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**A/N: **This was written before HBP was released. After what happened in the book, I thought this fic seemed more realistic (Draco'schoice to side with Lord Voldemort, at least), so I edited it to fit the book.

* * *

Standing behind a tree and observing the rain-soaked ground ahead of him, he knew it wasn't her fault. As much as he wanted to say it was, it really wasn't her fault. He hated to admit it. He didn't _want_ to admit it.

* * *

For years, Draco's life was simple and everything was understandable. Dumbledore was not some great man as everyone said. He was a fraud and a man who seemed like he knew everything when he really did not. Draco's father was respected as well as feared. He had power over others. The Minister of Magic was an odd man with no sense of solidity and therefore turned to others to help run the magical world. Lucius Malfoy easily influenced him and helped spread nasty rumors about Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and other well-liked people. It was a way to bring the others down and raise the Minister above the rest.

Potter. That was another thing in Draco's life that was as simple as day and night. He was a downright goody-goody. It didn't matter how many rules he broke, he was still on the professors' good list. He could get away with anything and everyone would twist the stories into something heroic. He was famous only because he survived the Killing Curse from the Dark Lord. Draco didn't think that was any bit heroic. It was all luck – everything Potter went through was pure luck.

Then there were his friends. Weasley and Granger. Weasley was a pathetic excuse for a pureblood wizard. Poor and Muggle-loving. Granger was a Mudblood, and should not have received any attention. But she did, because she was the "brightest witch of her age" and friends with the do-gooder Potter.

If she would have been a normal Mudblood, acting more like Longbottom and his pathetic talents, then Draco's life would have been perfect. He wouldn't have had to worry about why he was feeling this way, why he always wanted to start bickering with her just to see how far she could go, what his father would think if he found out, what _Granger_ would think if she found out.

She never ceased to amaze him. She was his competition. His father pushed him to his limits to succeed in school, but once Lucius Malfoy found out that the Mudblood Granger continued to be better than his son, he'd push Draco even more. She made him think, not resort to violence. Any time he felt like picking on Potter and Weasley, Granger would always spat something back at him before the Weasley oaf would pummel him. His brain would spin for something to say back, and all he could do was insult. He'd hoped that the insults would shut her up, but she would continue sending verbal punches. Afterwards she'd give him a glare and drag Potter and Weasley behind her, leaving Draco standing at the spot wondering how she, of all people, could shut him up by a few simple words.

He was intrigued. She was in no way pretty – very plain, actually. She never bothered with makeup like the other girls in their year. She never worried about her hair. She was all academics and caring for others. She never cared about blood, class, clothes, jewelry, and other things the Slytherin girls cared about.

Slytherin girls. That's what he was supposed to be watching. He was supposed to go after Slytherin girls like Pansy, not observe a Mudblood sitting next to Potter and Weasley at the Gryffindor table.

It was all so wrong. And it was all her fault.

Two months after their fifth year in Hogwarts, Draco was admitted into the Death Eater ranks. He believed this was what he was destined to do, and he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. He helped plan the final battle against Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and all things that stood for the Light of the wizarding world. He wanted to end it, just like the others around him. He wanted to show the wizarding world what it should be like: no blood traitors and filthy blood dirtying it up.

He wanted to show _her_ what it should be like.

Draco's job was to find a way for the Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts undetected to kill Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the only man standing in the Dark Lord's way. Without Dumbledore there to guide him, Harry Potter would be powerless, defenseless, a mere boy against the greatest Dark wizard there was.

It was a task Draco thought would give him, his family, and his name honor. He was eager for it to start. A few months into the school year proved tiresome, and almost pointless. He felt he could never fix the Vanishing Cabinet. But he kept working harder and harder as the end of the school year drew near. If he did not complete his task, he would be killed.

After the Death Eaters entered the castle, Draco ran up the tower stairs to find Dumbledore weak and powerless. Dumbledore spoke of freedom from the wrath of Voldemort, of hiding, of saving the Malfoy family. Draco didn't want to listen to Dumbledore, but his words, his trust…it was too much. Draco wanted Voldemort to win…didn't he?

Draco escaped Hogwarts along with Professor Snape. The Death Eater meeting proceeding the Hogwarts attack was a mixture of celebration and a mixture of disappointment. The Dark Lord was disappointed in Draco for not fulfilling the entire task, but he was proud of him for getting as far as he did. Draco, still believing the only way he could save his family without running to the Order and being dubbed a coward, was to stay by Voldemort's side and plan the final battle against Harry Potter. Against Potter, Weasley, and Granger.

The final battle began at Godric's Hollow, where Voldemort knew Potter would be. Draco was prepared for the worst and promised he would show those who didn't believe to open their eyes and look at the filthy world around them. One last chance to live before their world became utterly dark.

But was the world really full of filth when it had someone like Granger? Surely she was the best of them, with top grades and a talent beyond what the professors had seen. Draco shook his head to rid his mind from the thoughts. It doesn't matter about her brains, Granger was a Mudblood, and Mudbloods were filth. They had to be taken care of.

He was going along fine until he saw her. Of course she'd be here, why wouldn't she? He had then made it his job to keep an eye on her and watch her every move. He wanted to find her weak spot.

He followed her around for several minutes and still had not made his move. He found her weak spot. He _knew_ her weak spot. After observing her for several years, who wouldn't? But why didn't he make his move? He could end her now if he wanted.

But he didn't. He only continued to follow her.

With a sickening feeling at the pit of his stomach, he realized he was only protecting her. He would freeze in his spot when he saw a fellow Death Eater sneak behind her. He would sigh in relief when he saw a member from the Order stop him and begin to fight.

Someone had yelled from behind him, and Draco turned around just in time before a red jet of light shot through the attacker's wand. Draco dodged the hex and began to send some of his own. He sent every Dark curse he knew, every hex he learned, and the attacker shielded the spells from hitting him and send his own at Draco. The duel lasted a long time, and Draco kept jumping out of the way and scanned the field for a spot of brown bushy hair. Once spotted, he continued with the duel.

The attacker launched himself at Draco when he saw what Draco was looking for. Granger was in line of sight, and saw what was going on. Draco wished that her care for others would stop just for that one moment. She ran towards Draco and the person attacking him on the ground.

Using all of his strength, he pushed the person off of him and stood up, wand before him and ready for a curse. Soaked to the bone and hair in their face, the attacker was unrecognizable. They looked ready to run into Draco once more, forgetting all about magic and going for physical violence. Draco's eyes widened and he shouted a curse towards the man.

"_Perimo!_"

Only the man jumped out of the way, and the jet of green light hit Hermione square in the chest. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching at her heart.

The attacker turned around and ran towards Hermione, completely forgetting about Draco. Ashamed and afraid, Draco ran to the trees on the edge of the field and stared out at the sight before him.

* * *

It really wasn't her fault. She was only being herself. An intelligent witch, even though she was a Mudblood. Muggleborn. She had always raised the level of competition for Draco, and he enjoyed the bickering more than the physical fights he endured with Potter and Weasley.

No, it wasn't her fault. It was his. It was his fault that she was lying there, gasping for air and grabbing on to the last bit of life she had. She had been everything Draco wished to be, wanted to be, and now she was gone. Her whole life, standing ready and waiting for her, was gone. All because of him.

People were crouching beside her, their hands close to her mouth and chest. They wanted to hear her heartbeat, her breathing, and her last few gasps of air. Draco wished he could be out there with them, holding her and telling her that he never truly hated her. He hated where she came from and he hated the feeling inside whenever she was around, but he never hated _her_.

But it would be wrong if he stepped out of the shelter of the trees and into the rain, proclaiming what he felt around them. He would be killed. No Death Eater could love a Mudblood like Hermione Granger.

Draco watched as her breathing slowed to a stop. The wizards around her leaned back on their heals, heads bowed. One man, Draco couldn't tell who he was, picked her up in his arms, and carried her off and away from Draco's view.

He wanted to leave this place. To leave this life and this world. It was nothing but a mess and he didn't want to be a part of it anymore. Draco Malfoy Apparated from the forest, the scene before him forever burning in his mind.

* * *

**A/N: **_Perimo_ in Latin means 'to do away with, destroy, kill, annihilate.' I used it as a form of a killing curse, but it's not as quick as the _Avada Kedavra_. Big thanks to University of Notre Dame's Latin Dictionary and Grammer Aid.

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